


Obligatory Karl Lee Fanfiction is Obligatory

by uhoh84



Category: Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Drag, F/F, Fake Mustaches, Karl Lee: the Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 15:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14240301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhoh84/pseuds/uhoh84
Summary: In which I decide that Taylor and Karlie were together the night of the shoot for whatever glorious thing Karl Lee is going to become, and in which fake mustaches are hard to take off alone.





	Obligatory Karl Lee Fanfiction is Obligatory

You can smell it from outside your door, the magical plum and berry goodness of the cobbler Karlie had promised you. You crack the door open, kick some paint cans from the remodel out of your way and incidentally into Meredith, who is not pleased in the slightest, and make your way to the kitchen where you find...a man.

"Kar?" you cry, long and inquisitive, gingerly picking up the heaviest vase within reach.

"Yeah, babe?"

And then you remember the shoot. The drag shoot.

There she is in front of you, big smiles and sweet eyes. Her favorite wooden spoon is berry-purple in her hand, and she's wearing so much flour she looks almost like Olivia. She's taken the suit off by now, your girl is comfy in sweats and a tee, but the wig is still on, even if some of her own hair pokes through. And the mustache, oh the mustache.

You remember, briefly, when Dianna had worn one like it, in that Killers video. You'd thrown your phone across the room just a few days before Thanksgiving, earning yourself your first ever cracked iPhone screen. Your mother wasn't happy with you, but you were just upset that you had to text Karlie over your laptop for the next few days.

This mustache isn't some showy façade attached to an old girlfriend, though, but rather a half-ripped off dad-stache on the lip of your one true love, hanging into her grin, practically inside of her mouth. You can't help but laugh, and she laughs with you as she pulls you in for a hug, taking the vase out of your hand and putting it down on the kitchen island. 

You go in for your welcome-home kiss and come back quickly with a mouth full of spirit gum and little brown hairs. You both spit little bits out and laugh a little more freely now. Pretty soon, though you reach up to grab the wet end of the mustache.

"Tay, it's gonna hurt. It hurt just getting this bit off."

"I know, honey," you say, cuddling closer, "but I'm here now, and I can kiss it better. But I can't kiss you with that thing on your lip."

Immediately, Karlie twisted her face into a comedic display, eyes screwed shut and upper lip flattened for maximum pulling area. Suppressing a giggle in favor of sincerity, you get a good grip and tug. Hard.

"Agh, babe."

You crash into her, peppering her with light kisses, until she kisses you back, a little stiff but eager still.

Hours later, you're both snuggled on the couch, empty bowls of cobbler and whipped cream on the coffee table and an episode of SVU playing softly in the background. Karlie picks her phone from the sideboard behind your head.

"They're letting me pick the shot for when I advertise it on Insta."

You grab the phone out of her hand and swipe through the photos, not so subtly sending some favorites to your own phone.

"Comb, babe."

"Comb?"

"Definitely comb."


End file.
